


The Song Remains the Same

by Odyle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odyle/pseuds/Odyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Canon Divergence AU] Working as a janitor would never get him anywhere. He looked around and all he saw were the sad faces of people like him who’d given up. </p>
<p>And so he became the doctor’s errand boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Song Remains the Same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallen_sparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallen_sparrow/gifts).



There was a lot not to envy about working on the sanitation crew, but at least it was predictable. 

He started his shift by making sure that all of the trash chutes in the level were working and that all of the recyclables had been sorted properly. Next he stocked his cart and went down each hallway in order, sweeping and picking up trash. There wasn’t much of it. Goods were too scarce and people horded even packages and broken things, but his access to the trash chutes meant he had first pick of anything that got tossed. Food, goods, whatever people threw out.

Even better, he worked the overnight shift--or what would be overnight, if there were such a thing as night on the Ark. Most people were asleep, so it counted as night. Bellamy got his meals at odd times, which meant he got to bring his food back to his room, which was fine by him. At any rate, no one was awake to bother him or cause a mess while he walked the halls.

“Blake,” his radio squawked. 

“Go ahead,” Bellamy said. 

“Get your ass to the clinic. Dr. Griffin called in vomit at her clinic.” 

He turned left at the next corner, pushing his cart toward Dr. Griffin’s clinic. 

It was empty at this time of night. There was a sleepy-looking nurse behind the front desk, but nobody else was awake. The nurse pointed him down the hall, then went back to reading a book. Bellamy pushed his cart through the clinic, his nose leading him to the mess. Whoever had gotten sick had stopped just short of vomiting up bile. Bellamy threw something on the mess to make it clump. 

Vomit barely bothered him anymore. He’d been working in sanitation for almost a decade. He’d seen much worse than a little bit of sick. Cleaning up vomit was worlds better than picking up body parts or trying to get out blood stains. 

“Are you the janitor?” asked a woman. 

Bellamy turned to find Dr. Clarke Griffin staring at him. He recognized her, though he had never been this close to her before. She was the only doctor in this station, and one of the youngest in the history of the Ark. He knew her by reputation. Not only was she the daughter of the woman most likely to be voted the next chancellor, but Clarke Griffin was a bit of an agitator. She hadn’t managed to get herself thrown in prison or airlocked, but she had flirted with it.

“That’s me,” Bellamy said, motioning toward the vomit rapidly clumping on the floor. 

“Bellamy Blake?”

Bellamy nodded dumbly. 

“Come to my office when you’re done,” the doctor said, her voice lowered. 

He resisted the urge to groan. Likely she needed a light changed or a door unstuck. People were always asking him about maintenance tasks despite his insistence that he had nothing to do with that. 

The doctor left Bellamy there with his mess to clean. There was nothing for it. Cleaning up vomit and explaining himself to his social betters was his lot in life now. Bellamy Blake was at the bottom of the heap and there was no way to claw his way out, he mused as he scraped up the vomit. 

When he’d finished cleaning it up, he tossed the biohazard bags and wheeled his cart out of the clinic, purposefully ignoring the doctor’s office as he passed it. If she wanted a light bulb changed, she could put in a maintenance request. He had a lot of hallways to clean and trash chutes to inspect before his shift was up, so he went to a nearby janitorial closet to dispose of the biohazard bag in the biohazard chute and restock his cart. 

“You missed a spot,” the woman said, stepping in front of the doorway to the janitorial closet to box him in. 

It startled him to see her; he hadn’t heard anyone behind him in the hall. 

“I’ll get it in a minute,” he said, collecting his things to leave again. 

Bellamy stepped forward, hoping that she would be sensible and move out of the way, but Dr. Griffin moved to block him. 

“I need you to clean it up _now_.” 

“Look, I don’t know what you think is still there, but I cleaned everything up.”

She stepped forward again, and Bellamy found himself stepping backward into the closet so that they wouldn’t touch.

“I need you to do something for me.” 

“I already told you--”

“You’re Bellamy Blake. I’ve looked at your record. You were a guard, but you got demoted to sanitation crew.” 

It was odd enough that she knew his name. It was odder still that she knew his history. Bellamy bristled at being confronted over it. It was none of her business, and why did she even care?

“It’s hard to feed two people on rations for one,” Clarke said.

Bellamy froze. They had tossed his room when his mom died. Feeding three people on rations for two had been possible, especially when he’d gotten into the guards and received the extra allotment for guards. Once his mom had died, it had gotten much harder to feed Octavia and himself on just his rations. In the last few months, she’d gotten desperate and started stealing food--a little here and there, but it had been too much. They hadn’t found Octavia when they'd searched the room, but they'd found pretty much everything else. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bellamy said. 

“Your mom was stealing food. You didn’t have anything to show for it when they shook you down, so you weren’t benefiting from it. Obviously, you were feeding someone else. Why they didn’t qualify for their own rations…” Dr. Griffin leaned back to glance down the hallway and make sure that there was no one to hear their conversation. 

“I have an extra block of food rations. I get extras every quarter to give out to pregnant women, people who’re malnourished. The ones I got for this quarter are about to expire. It would be a shame if they don’t get used,” the doctor said. 

She wasn’t very good at this. There was no nuance there. She hadn’t even bothered with euphemisms. What she was offering was rations fraud. It was a crime that could get them both flushed out of an airlock. 

Which wasn’t to say that he didn’t want them; Bellamy wanted the rations desperately. If they were compassionate bonus rations, they wouldn’t be tagged. There were three cafeterias he could access to turn them in so it wouldn’t look suspicious. 

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” Bellamy said.

“But you haven’t even heard what I’m going to propose,” the doctor said. 

“I don’t know what kind of bubble you’ve been living in, princess, but rations theft is a serious crime. I’ve learned my lesson.” 

“Please,” Clarke said. “There are people suffering. You don’t have to do much, just run a little errand. You’d be helping a lot of people. You can go places that I can’t. I think we can help each other out.”

He thought of Octavia. It had been tough on her since their mom had died. She was alone more often now, and they had both been losing weight from trying to share just Bellamy’s rations. It was a good thing that he wasn’t a guard anymore. No one paid enough attention to him to notice that he was underfed or wonder why that was. 

“Fine,” Bellamy said. 

Her face lit up. 

“I’ve got contacts on Agro Station.” 

The doctor gave him directions on where to meet up with her contacts. She was very specific and particular with her details, but he suspected that the doctor had never made the trip herself. Bellamy wondered what she could possibly want from someone out there, but he didn't ask. The less he knew about it, the less culpable he would be. And anyway, if the chancellor's daughter was involved, just how bad could it be? 

Dr. Griffin had done her homework. Once a week Bellamy was tasked with taking organic matter out to the farm. Most of the process was automated, but he still had to make sure that the delivery was received and get his work order signed off on once the delivery was made. He had always enjoyed going out to the farm station. There was more space and the abundance of plants made the air taste different, and he tended to dawdle on the days he was assigned to take compost to the farm station. He wished he could bring Octavia there to see it but had to resign himself to stealing a leaf or a stone and taking it back to show her. 

After he made the compost delivery, Bellamy checked the instructions again. He was supposed to meet the contact in a control shed somewhere in the fields. Bellamy walked through the rows of plants; they went on as far as the eye could see. Every so often there was a control shed where farm workers went to adjust the nutrients and irrigation. 

Bellamy knocked before he entered. There was the sound of people scrambling inside of the shed. He waited a moment before opening the door to reveal two men; one of them stuffing a bag down the front of his work jumpsuit. It was immediately clear what he was there for. The Agro station grew and compounded some medications. There was a small black market for illegal drugs. 

If he had been asked to dream up two characters who’d be supplying Clarke Griffin with drugs, these two would have been exactly who he’d have dreamed up. They were younger, about the doctor’s age, and acting exactly like the kind of guys who would be mixed up in something illicit. 

“You Clarke’s guy?” asked the one who’d jammed the bag into his uniform. It made a conspicuous lump on his chest. 

“Be cool, Jasper,” the other said. “Obviously Clarke sent him. You’ll have to forgive my friend. He’s paranoid that everybody’s a guard… You aren’t, are you?”

“Not anymore,” Bellamy said.

The farm workers stared at him. 

“I’m a janitor,” Bellamy said, pointing to the markings on his jumpsuit. “Don’t they teach you to read out here?” 

“We’ve got to be careful,” the other guy said. “I’m Monty.” 

He held out his hand to Bellamy. The hand was callused like his own, but Monty had dirt under his fingernails. That wasn’t something one saw everyday on the Ark. Bellamy took his hand and shook it. 

Monty looked to his friend, Jasper, but Jasper still seemed suspicious of Bellamy and his motives. He brought out a toolbox and sifted through it for a moment. From the bottom of the box, he pulled out two small bags of weed. 

“Give our best to the doctor,” Monty said as he handed Bellamy the baggies. 

Bellamy tucked the baggies in the pocket on the inside of his jumpsuit. It was easy enough. He hadn’t expected it to go so smoothly despite the exhaustive instructions from the doctor, though who knew how many times someone had run this errand for her before. 

“Will do,” Bellamy said and left the two criminals to their work. 

Bellamy tried to act normal on his way back to the clinic. It was business as usual. He returned to his station on a transport, put away his bins, logged the trip in the sanitation office, then went to the clinic. 

Clarke waved him into her office when she spotted him, shutting the door behind him. She covered the little window in the door with a shade. 

“Did you get it?” Clarke asked. 

“Yeah, I got it.” 

Bellamy pulled the sealed baggies from the inside pocket of his jumpsuit. He put them down on the desk in front of Clarke. She weighed one of the baggies in her palm before stashing them both in her desk. 

“What does a doctor want with pot?” Bellamy asked. 

“It helps with nausea. It’s really the best thing for it,” Clarke said. “Thanks to you and my friends with an interest in botany, I’ve got cancer patients who’ll be suffering just a little bit less.” 

Clarke reached into her desk drawer and brought out the rations vouchers. 

“Don’t spend them all in one place,” she said as she held them out to Bellamy. 

He snatched them from her and stuffed them in the pocket inside his coveralls, then rose to leave. “I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were. Smarter people than you have been caught for dumber shit than passing off too many rations vouchers in one place.” 

“I’ve already thought about that, princess. I’ve got to get back to work.” 

“I owe you,” Clarke said. 

“You already gave me the vouchers. We’re even.” 

The doctor looked uneasy, but she didn’t try to push the subject again. 

“Will you do this again?” she asked. 

“Maybe if your rations vouchers clear,” Bellamy said. 

For a moment, the doctor looked offended, but she quickly shook it off. 

Bellamy left the doctor with her drugs. The vouchers felt heavy in his pocket. He thought about them as he swept the hallways, cleared the garbage chutes, and separated all of the trash for processing. Bellamy ran through the menu in his mind, trying to decide what would be most filling and what would go the farthest. At the end of his shift, he hurried to one of the cafeterias; the clerk didn’t even glance at him as he handed over the voucher.

“I’ve got something for you,” Bellamy announced as soon as the door to his quarters were closed. 

Octavia looked up from a book she’d read a hundred times before. 

“Bellamy, what did you do?” Octavia asked as he laid out his take on the table. There was a sandwich, a box of raisins, some pickled cabbage, and a rice cake. It was a bounty compared to what they were both accustomed to after so many years.

“I made a friend who had a few extra rations vouchers.” 

“Seriously?” 

“They’re good for a few more weeks. This isn’t going to last, so enjoy it while you can.” 

His sister needed no invitation. She descended on the spread laid out before her, packing it away so quickly that Bellamy wondered if she’d even stopped to chew it. 

“Thank you,” Octavia said when she was done. 

“Anything for you,” Bellamy said.

+++

John Murphy was in charge of sanitation for his section. There was no pity in his soul. While were plenty of bastards on the sanitation crew, John Murphy was the chief among them, so it made sense that he’d been put in charge.

When he had started on the sanitation crew, Murphy had been one of the other newbies. They’d gotten the shit jobs, the biohazard jobs that no one else wanted to do. He had never liked Murphy, but he’d been close with him and another new janitor named Atom. Murphy had been tolerable until he’d been promoted over them. He took joy in exercising his power over the other janitors. Bellamy had the write-ups to prove it. Murphy and his temper stood between Bellamy and any hope of improving himself. 

Working as a janitor would never get him anywhere. He looked around and all he saw were the sad faces of people like him who’d given up. 

And so he became the doctor’s errand boy. He brought her goods, and she rewarded him. Rarely were they ration vouchers, since she only got so many. More often she gave him small things. He wasn’t sure exactly where or how she got all of the things. 

“I have to ask,” Jasper said. They were in the tool shed where Jasper and Monty kept their equipment. It was also where their stash was locked away. “What’s in this for you?” 

“That’s none of your business,” Bellamy said. 

“It’s just--” Jasper paused, looking for words. “Clarke may be a council member’s daughter, but she doesn’t exactly have much. Monty and me do this as community service. You don’t seem like that kind of guy.” 

Bellamy wasn’t sure why he did so much for the doctor. She rarely had rations vouchers or things he actually wanted. Her mom was important, but Clarke Griffin herself was just some outcast doctor. 

And that was a lie he told himself. Bellamy was fairly sure of why he did the doctor’s bidding, and it wasn’t just for the rare chance at extra rations. He had a crush on Clarke Griffin. 

“Hurry up. I don’t have time for this,” Bellamy said. 

Jasper gave him the bags, and Bellamy stuffed them inside his jumpsuit. 

She was beautiful and kind and smart. It made his day better to see her, even when she didn’t have any tasks for him. His heart felt lighter after talking to her and getting just the smallest bit of her attention.

His thoughts were on her when Murphy caught him as he was clocking in for his next shift.

“Blake,” Murphy said, licking his lips. “You haven’t been covering your territory quickly enough.” 

That was likely the case, but Bellamy was not solely to blame. His territory was bigger than many of the others in the station. When he’d been reassigned to sanitation ten years ago, his area had been half the size. Population reduction meant fewer sanitation workers to go around and more ground for each of them to cover. Further complicating matters was the fact that none of the kids graduating from education wanted to be janitors. The only new faces the sanitation crew received were kids who’d done things the government frowned on, but that were not quite illegal.

“Tell that to the patients to keep throwing up all over the clinic and the mechanics who keep leaving trash everywhere,” Bellamy said.

“You’re putting a lot of burden on the other guys. You need to step it up.”

There wasn’t really anywhere lower to go than sanitation, so the threat felt hollow, no matter how Murphy phrased it. Bellamy carried the anger and frustration with him through the shift. When Dr. Griffin came sauntering down the hall toward him, he turned away. 

“What?” Bellamy said. 

“What’s with your attitude?” she asked. 

“I’m cleaning air vents on the Ark. In a few minutes, I’m going to go clean up shit clogging one of the bathrooms,” Bellamy said. “And I’m probably going to do the same thing every day until I die. I think I’m allowed to be pissed. What do you want?” 

“I _wanted_ to ask you if you wanted to go to Unity Day with me,” the doctor said. 

“Why?” 

“I thought it would be nice,” Clarke said. “My mom asked me to invite someone, and I thought you might enjoy it.” 

“Are you serious?” 

It was a real question in his mind. A council member’s daughter had just asked him to attend an important social event with her. Him, Bellamy Blake, ex-guard and current janitor.

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll find someone else,” Clarke said. “It can be kind of boring.” 

“No, I’ll go.” 

As much as he envied Clarke for belonging to a higher class, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to attend. It was supposed to be open to everyone on the Ark. In practice, it was only open to those who lived on the station where the celebration was to be held. Clarke would have access because of her mother. 

“Am I allowed?” 

Clarke shrugged. “My mom said I could bring anyone. She didn’t say ‘no Bellamy Blake.’ I took Raven last year, so you should be fine. If you don’t have anything nice to wear, I can see if Wick will lend you something.” 

He didn’t tell Octavia until the day before Unity Day when he hung up his good clothes to get the wrinkles out. 

“Have you got a date?” Octavia asked. She always wanted to hear every detail of his day. Lacking her own social life, she lived vicariously through him, however boring that could be. 

“Sort of,” Bellamy said. Clarke hadn’t said if it was a date or not. The doubt crept back in. She was taking him, but surely only as a friend. “I’m going to the Unity Day celebration with a friend.” 

“What kind of friend has access to that?” Octavia asked. “Is this the same one with the books?” 

“Yeah, it’s her.”

“So, she’s a she,” Octavia said, seizing upon his words. 

“Don’t get too worked up. Her name is Clarke Griffin, and she’s doctor. _We’re just friends._ ” Bellamy made sure to stress the last part. 

“You should try being more than friends. See if you can get more meal vouchers.” 

Bellamy rolled his eyes, ignoring his sister. If he engaged her, it would only encourage her.

+++

The room was crowded, more so than he had expected. People were still crazy over the tree, so they would take any chance they got to see it. He had trouble picking out anyone in the crowd. Clarke, for her part, seemed mostly uninterested in the proceedings. She led him by the hand through the fringes of the crowd to the far side of the meeting hall from where the tree was being venerated.

“You don’t want to get closer?” Bellamy asked. 

Clarke shrugged. “Not really, but feel free to go take a look if you want. You’ll have to fight your way through a pack of really devoted little old ladies and school kids. I think you can take them.” 

Bellamy noticed that she was still holding his hand. 

“I think I’ll stay here,” he said 

They stood side by side, watching the crowd mill about. 

“What now?” Bellamy asked. 

“Well, my mom will show up eventually with Vera Kane. There’ll be a ceremony to bless the tree, then the kids will do a dance.” 

Bellamy nodded. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation or of her hand on his. 

“You come to this sort of stuff a lot?” he asked. 

Clarke shrugged. “Mostly when my mom is running for something. She’s been on the council for a while now, and a lot of people think she’s going to run for chancellor during the next election. It’s good to show up once in a while and remind her I’m still alive.” 

Bellamy wasn’t sure what to make of that. It hadn’t occurred to him that things might not be well between the Doctors Griffin. He'd heard enough to know that Clarke’s father was dead, but he hadn’t known anything further about her family. He’d assumed they got along. 

Something in the crowd caught Clarke’s eye. She dropped his hand immediately. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy asked. 

She nodded toward a woman making her way through the crowd. Dr. Abigail Griffin was not as familiar to him, but he still knew of her. She had been on the council for a very long time. Bellamy wasn’t very aware of politics, but he knew her name. 

“And who is this?” Abigail Griffin asked. 

“Bellamy Blake,” Clarke said before he had a chance to answer. Bellamy offered his hand to the councillor. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said as they shook hands. “Are you Clarke’s _friend_?” 

Bellamy looked to Clarke for an answer to this. 

“We’re friends,” Clarke said. 

The councilwoman gave him a strained smile. Bellamy didn’t quite know how to react or even read her reaction. Meeting mothers and interacting with council members both fell outside of his realm of experience. 

“I hope you two enjoy yourselves,” she said and wandered back into the Unity Day crowd. 

“What was that?” Bellamy asked. 

“Don’t ask.”

“I am asking.”

Clarke sighed. “She probably thinks we’re dating or at least sleeping together.” 

He wondered if Clarke had done anything to lead her mother on. It was exciting and a little bit frightening. For all that he had a crush on Clarke, he hadn’t ever entertained many thoughts about what being with her would be like. 

It frightened to know that he was within Councillor Abby Griffin’s purview. If she decided to do much digging into his history, she could quickly learn about Octavia. He hoped that Clarke wouldn’t so carelessly give him and his sister up, but he’d learned to trust nobody. 

“I can tell her we’re not if it bothers you.” 

“No, I’m good,” Bellamy said. 

He tried to ignore the look she gave him. 

They turned their attention to the ceremony as it began, though his thoughts stayed on Clarke. He couldn’t focus on the children or the tree. They moved before him, but he didn’t absorb any of it. Bellamy spun out scenarios in his head. Maybe this would be the end of it. He would be Clarke’s trusted errand boy until he dropped dead of old age. Or maybe there was something more there. He spent most of his time on this second possibility. 

Clarke tapped him on the shoulder, distracting him from his daydreams. The ceremony was over and the mass of people were paying their respects to the tree before filing out of the room. 

“It’s over,” she said. “Let’s get something to eat here before we go back.” 

They skipped the line for the tree and left. Abigail Griffin was by the door shaking hands. Clarke didn’t pause to say goodbye to her mother, but the councilwoman caught Bellamy’s eye for a moment before Clarke pulled him along out of the room. 

The cafeteria was set up to serve those attending the Unity Day ceremony. There were delicacies that probably hadn’t appeared on the menu of the cafeterias in their station since before he was born. Clarke didn’t seem to notice that anything was strange. He ordered what she did, earning him a look from the doctor. 

“I’ve never had any of this,” Bellamy said in explanation as they took their seats. 

“Well, don’t get too excited. It’s still food on the Ark.” 

Clarke was wrong about the food. Bellamy couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal that was so good. The food was delicious in comparison to the bland fare produced by the cafeterias of their station. Clarke didn’t seem to notice. She chatted with him as if it was just another cafeteria meal. 

When he came across things that were particularly delicious, he stole a little extra off of her tray. Clarke batted at his fork with her own, but only in a weak show of retaining claim to her own tray. 

They talked for a long time after the food was gone. He had been fetching things for her for almost half a year, but this was the longest they had ever talked. Bellamy asked her about becoming a doctor. She was candid with him in a way that he appreciated. Clarke asked him about being a janitor. She didn’t seem bored, even as he trailed into stories that barely even interested him. They chatted about the books she owned and the videos he liked to watch. She showed her teeth when she smiled and had a habit of rolling her eyes at bad jokes even when she was a little amused. They stayed until the cafeteria workers chased them out. 

Most of the Unity Day celebrants were long gone, so they were alone when they got onto a transport back to their station. 

“When is your next shift?” Clarke asked. 

Bellamy glanced at the clock on the transport.

“Sixteen hours,” he said. Enough time for a good night’s sleep and telling Octavia all of the details of the Unity Day celebration and his journey to a different station. 

“Do you want to come back to the clinic?” Clarke asked.

“What are you asking?” 

“I’m asking you if you want to spend the night with me,” Clarke said. “I thought you might be interested.”

Bellamy was very interested. He had been interested for a very long time, but hadn’t really held any hope that his interest would be reciprocated. But, as he looked down at Clarke Griffin, alone in a transporter, he thought that maybe she was a person just like him. Maybe she was flawed in some small ways. Maybe she didn’t get along with her mother. Maybe she had desires. 

“Lead the way,” he said.

+++

Clarke sighed in her sleep.

It would be nice to be the husband of a doctor. There were only a few on the Ark. Doctors got many privileges that janitors didn’t. He’d have to live on the station, but he’d get to live in the clinic with Clarke in her quarters. 

Clarke’s quarters were attached to her clinic, but she had multiple private rooms--two bedrooms and a living room. There would be so much more space for Octavia, and he’d be able to split two sets of rations three ways again. 

That would mean telling Clarke about Octavia. 

Beside him, the doctor mumbled something. 

Clarke already suspected Octavia’s existence, so that wouldn’t come as any great shock. They would probably get along, if Clarke didn’t turn Octavia in for being illegal and him in for harboring her. She’d never done anything to suggest she’d turn him in, but the vision of Clarke handing them over still played over in his mind. He wanted Clarke, but he had an obligation to his sister. 

“Get off my arm,” Clarke mumbled louder, leading Bellamy to notice for the first time that he was in fact laying on her arm. 

“Sorry,” he said. 

“Why are you awake?” 

“I was thinking.” 

“Something wrong?”

“Not wrong but...what is this, Clarke?” 

“It’s whatever we want it to be,” she said. Her voice was sleepy, barely above a whisper. 

Bellamy played with a loose lock of her hair while he thought. Most of the time, she kept her hair back in a braid or up in a bun. He couldn’t think of a time when he’d seen it down, and even then he’d been the one to reach behind her and unbraid it while they caught their breath. It was as soft as he had imagined. From now on, he knew he’d have the urge to pull her hair down and unbraid it whenever he saw her. 

“And what do you want it to be?” Bellamy asked, but Clarke was already fast asleep again.

+++

Clarke was gone when he woke. He pulled on his clothes and boots to go home and change before his shift. The doctor was attending to patients. She paused for a moment to wave at him as he left but quickly returned to her charge. He walked home, accompanied only by his confusion over Clarke Griffin.

He’d been with plenty of women. More when he’d been a guard, but a few since he’d been a janitor. They were all different, but they’d all been affectionate and chasing his attention. It was strange with Clarke. 

Octavia was waiting to pounce when he arrived, greedy for all of the details. He gave her a few while he hurried to change but refused to explain why he’d been gone quite so long. Bellamy realized, just after leaving, that he hadn’t brought anything for his sister to eat. 

Bellamy had gotten into all of this because he wanted to take better care of his sister. Now he was getting distracted. He could be involved with Clarke, but not at Octavia's expense. Octavia was his responsibility and without him, she had no way to survive. He was angry with himself for failing her. 

The janitors were milling around the staff room when he arrived. Everyone gathered before the meeting, catching up on the latest gossip. It had always bored Bellamy, although he tried to shoot the shit with the other janitors. Goodwill was too often undersold.

"I heard you got to go to the Unity Day celebration," Fox said. 

He was barely inside of the door when she jumped on him, almost as eager as Octavia had been. 

"Yeah," Bellamy said. "I got to go." 

"How'd you manage that, Blake?" asked Atom. 

"Doctor Griffin's on my daily route. I've been cleaning up shit and puke for her all year. She figured she owed me."

He wanted desperately to make it sound like it hadn't been a big deal, though it had been. None of the other people in the staff room had ever been. Hell, none of their parents or grandparents had ever even been. 

"What was it like?" Fox asked.

"Crowded," Bellamy said just as Murphy shouted for them to fall in. 

The janitors didn't exactly fall in, not like the guards had when he'd still been one. Instead they formed crooked rows. Murphy waited for them to sort themselves out, but he grew impatient and started doling out orders while they were still a jumble. Bellamy was stuck with shit work. 

"Next week we're doing five double shifts," Murphy announced. 

"What?" shouted one of the guards. 

"Five double shifts. They are decommissioning some of the halls. We have to get them ready for the engineers to go in and strip anything." 

There was grumbling among the janitors. Decommissioning halls was not unheard of. It helped to preserve oxygen and provide materials. Fewer and fewer of the halls and housing units were in use due to the one child policy. As the population waned, the amount of space that the support crews on the Ark needed to maintain was reduced. Five double shifts in a week, however, was unheard of. 

"Are any of the other crews doing this?" Bellamy asked above the noise of the other janitors discussing it. 

"For your information, it's just us. You got a problem, Blake?" Murphy asked. 

"Yeah, I've got a problem. Why should we have to work harder than the other crews?" 

"Because I'm the boss here. If I tell you assholes to do something, I expect for you to do it," Murphy said. 

The janitors hushed. No one wanted to cross Murphy, which Bellamy understood well. There wasn't much mercy or kindness in Murphy's heart. No one wanted to get on his bad side and discover just how little remained. 

The janitors were slow to disperse when Murphy dismissed them. Everyone was still talking about all of the double shifts, bitching and moaning about the unfairness. 

"We don't have to put up with this," Bellamy said to the small group of janitors he was standing with. "We deserve to be treated well, just like any of the others."

The others mumbled in agreement. 

"We shouldn't have to work double shifts when other crews don't," Bellamy said, a little louder this time. This attracted the attention of others in the room. Dissent was rare. He'd managed to keep his mouth shut through a lot of crap, but Bellamy found he couldn't keep quiet. 

"This is bullshit and we all know it. Who decided this?" He was projecting now, using the booming voice of authority he'd perfected as a guard. "Just Murphy? He's a half step above us. Who is he to tell us to work double shifts five times in a week? No one. That's who." 

"Don't you have shit to scrape up?" Murphy shouted. "Get to work, Blake." 

"We won't take this lying down," Bellamy said. "Who's with me?" 

There was cheering from the other janitors. Bellamy couldn't help but to grin at Murphy. He was at the bottom, but Murphy couldn't make him do everything. Bellamy was met by a look of hatred. Murphy could hate him for all he cared, Bellamy was quite content with his victory.

+++

More and more, he passed time in the clinic. Clarke was mostly tied there. Someone might come in needing help at any time, and she had to be ready. He visited her after his shifts to give her anything he’d picked up for her and, if she wasn’t busy, they went back into her quarters and had sex. After a time, he started to come by even when he didn’t have anything to drop off for her. Sometimes they talked--always light subjects like the strange things they’d seen at work that day, gossip on the ship, or politics. They didn’t talk about their relationship, which hadn’t become any clearer to Bellamy. Other times they simply spent time in each other’s company. Clarke might research a patient’s condition while he watched an old sports match, sitting side-by-side in her quarters.

Bellamy arrived one day to find Clarke was in her office with the door closed. Typically she kept it open so that people could easily get her. He peeked through the window in the door to make sure that she was alone, then knocked quickly before opening the door. 

Clarke glanced up from what she was writing. It looked like a letter. 

“Hey, Bell.” 

“Something important?” he asked, closing the door behind him. 

“I’m writing a proposal to the council,” Clarke said. She looked down at the message. “Floating convicts is wasteful. Think of all of the water and oxygen and minerals we’re losing.” 

“That’s fucked up, Clarke.” 

“What’s fucked up are the conditions most people live under. I shouldn’t have to tell you that. I’m trying to make things better for everyone while we’re stuck up here. ” 

It hadn’t really occurred to Bellamy that way. Thinking of people as the resources their body held was very much Clarke’s world view. It was the same reason she was able to cut into people and hack off limbs without flinching. 

“Do you think they’ll do anything?” 

Clarke sighed. “Maybe? Probably not, but I’ve got to try.” 

It was something he appreciated about Clarke. She could be selfless, unlike him. His rebellion against the double shifts had benefited everyone, but the motivation had been selfish. He didn’t want to work that much. He didn’t care if the others had to.

+++

Bellamy dragged his cart back toward the sanitation offices. Half of his body had been in a vent when his radio had gone off, calling him back to base. There was someone there from housing to see him. His stomach had sunk when he heard it. A visit from housing wasn't good news. The point of keeping his head down was not attracting attention. If the powers that be didn’t notice him, they wouldn’t see the quirks that might tip them off to Octavia.

He went to the janitorial offices to learn his fate. 

There was a young woman seated at a table in the admin office. “Name?” she asked, staring down at a list with many names. 

“Blake,” he said. There was a chair across from the woman at the table, but he stood. 

“Bellamy Blake?” 

He nodded. 

“I’m here to inform you that you’re being reassigned to the single men’s dorm. The change is effective in ten days.” 

He wanted to vomit or break something. “That’s my home.” 

“You’re single and almost 30. We have demand for the unit, so you’ll have to move. Now, please send in the next person.” 

He felt numb. Bellamy found himself unable to argue. He left. 

This was the end of everything. There was nowhere to hide Octavia if he lived in a dorm. Even in the best scenario, he’d share a room with three other men. He could try hiding her in one of the storage rooms, but those weren’t always oxygenated or heated. Efficiency meant that it was hard to hide a person on the Ark when you didn’t want them to be seen. 

His feet carried him to the clinic, where he found the doctor in her office. 

“Clarke,” he said. He stumbled forward and slumped in the chair in front of her desk meant for patients. 

She looked up from her paperwork. Clarke hadn’t been expecting him, judging by her expression. 

“Bellamy, what’s wrong?” 

“I need to talk to you,” Bellamy said. “I need your help.” 

She got up to shut the door to her office. Bellamy sat there, numb and unable to think. Clarke sat on top of her desk and took his hands in hers. 

“What is it?” Clarke asked.

“I’m getting kicked out of my housing.” 

She stroked the back of his hands with her thumbs. Clarke had never treated him so tenderly. 

“It happens sometimes. Why are you freaking out?” 

“My sister.” 

“What do you mean, your _sister_?”

She put great emphasis on the last word. To be fair, it wasn’t a common one anymore. There had been generations of people on the Ark who had never had brothers, sister, aunts, uncles, or cousins. 

“You were right about me hiding someone,” Bellamy said. “I have a sister. What am I going to do, Clarke?” 

“What’s her name?” 

“Octavia.” 

“I’ll help you. We’ll figure this out.” 

“There’s no figuring this out,” Bellamy said. “You can’t fix this.” 

“I can’t, but we can,” Clarke said.

+++

He hid his sister in a trash bin. It wasn’t the most elegant way to travel, but he made it through the corridors to the clinic with no hassle. Things were dead inside of the clinic. The only patient currently in was a retired mechanic for a round of dialysis. He waved at Bellamy as he passed, accustomed by now to seeing the janitor visiting the doctor’s quarters.

Octavia was silent in the trash bin. She’d asked him what was happening, but Bellamy had refused to tell her. He had her pack her few things in a bag, then loaded her into the bin. It was an unpleasant ride, but it was the best way he or Clarke could think of to move her between his quarters and the clinic. No one would think twice about a janitor stopping off at his room to pick up something during a shift or visiting the clinic. 

Clarke nodded to him when he pushed the bin into the clinic but didn’t turn away from her patient. She would come later, once Bellamy had had a chance to explain what was going on and settle his sister in Clarke’s quarters. 

“Where are we?” Octavia asked, dazed, as Bellamy helped her out of the bin. 

“This is where my friend lives.” 

“The doctor.” 

Bellamy nodded. “And you’re going to stay here now.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“They’re kicking me out of our place. I have to stay in a dorm, so you have to stay with Dr. Griffin.” 

Octavia clutched her bag close to her chest. He had insisted that Octavia not know until he got her to Clarke’s quarters in case she caused a scene. 

“You can trust her,” Bellamy said. 

The door to Clarke's quarters opened. Bellamy hurried to step between the door and Octavia in case it wasn't the doctor entering. Clarke, however, was just as cautious. She hurried to close the door behind her and lock it. 

"Is everything okay?" she asked. 

"Just settling in," Bellamy said.

Octavia was staring at Clarke. He didn't blame her. Clarke was the first person Octavia had met who wasn't related to her. 

"You're Clarke Griffin," Octavia said. His sister appeared to be somewhat in awe. 

"And you're Octavia," Clarke said. "Your brother's told me a lot about you." 

It was a lie. Octavia knew much more about Clarke than Clarke knew about Octavia. His sister may not have known the doctor's name, but Bellamy had talked about her plenty. Octavia lived vicariously through him and was practiced at wheedling details from him. The lie, however, served Clarke. 

"You're the girl with all of the books." 

"A few," Clarke said, motioning to one of the doors off the main room of her quarters. "I thought you could take the second bedroom. I haven't been using it for anything but storing my library." 

Octavia didn't wait for Clarke to lead her but instead went straight to the room. She'd pulled three books off of the shelf by the time carried her bag in for her. 

There was a bed in the room, a table, a chair, and the shelves with books on them. It hadn't looked this way the last time Bellamy had visited. The books had been there, but none of the rest of the furniture. 

"Who helped you set this up?" Bellamy asked. 

"Raven owed me a favor." 

He waited for her to elaborate, but she left him to talk to Octavia about one of the books she had picked up. His sister was too wrapped up in the books to be anxious about Clarke. It made him more comfortable to leave her here. The doctor would take good care of her. She had connections that Bellamy couldn't ever hope to establish. 

"I can read any of these?" Octavia asked the doctor. 

"Of course," said Clarke. "And when you finish these, I can get more."

+++

“Blake!” shouted the shift supervisor. “Get your ass to the training room.”

He dragged his feet, putting his kit in place so that it would be ready when he returned. 

There were two guards standing in front of the door to the conference room. He wanted to turn around and flee. Had they found Octavia? Were they here to arrest him and airlock him? One of the guards gave him a pat down, a thorough and embarrassing one that left him wondering just who he was about to meet. 

They waved him into the room when they were sure he didn’t have a gun or a knife on him. 

Bellamy entered the training room, resigned to his fate. He didn’t quite know what to make of it when he found the new chancellor seated at a table in the room.

“Chancellor,” he said.

She was newly minted. She’d won the election only two weeks before, on the day that Bellamy had secreted his sister into Clarke’s quarters. There was no official word for why the old chancellor had stepped down, but there were whispers of cancer. He had hardly noticed in the uproar of moving Octavia. 

Chancellor Griffin looked up from her paperwork. She rose from her chair, gesturing at the chair across from hers. 

“Please sit, Mr. Blake. Thank you for your time.” 

Numbly, Bellamy took his seat. 

“Would you care to describe your relationship with Clarke?” 

Bellamy nodded, unsure of where the conversation was headed. There was no reason to incriminate himself. 

“We know each other,” he said. 

“I have to wonder how well my daughter _knows_ you if she’s asking for favors on your behalf. Do you have something against my daughter?” 

“What did she ask you?” 

“You don’t know?” 

“I didn’t ask her to do anything for me.” 

“So you asked her something for someone else?” 

"With all respect, chancellor, please cut the bullshit and tell me what you're accusing me of," Bellamy said. 

The chancellor recoiled for a moment, leaning back from the table. 

"Did you ask my daughter to obtain an identity for someone?" 

"No," Bellamy said, but too quickly. 

The chancellor tilted her head, just like his mother had when he'd misbehaved as a kid. Suddenly, he didn't feel like a grown up man, but like a child again. 

"I've read your file, Mr. Blake. I'm well aware of all of the trouble you've been in," the chancellor said. "But I'm also invested in my daughter's welfare. I recommend that you live a quiet life. Clarke doesn't need trouble."

"Believe me, she gets into that on her own." He would never be able to stop Clarke from taking up causes. 

"Then you understand that you don't need to encourage her," Chancellor Griffin said. 

Bellamy nodded. Clarke needed no encouragement. 

"If you have nothing further to add, I think we're done here," the chancellor said.

+++

He went to find Clarke in the clinic. She was stitching up one of the engineers while Raven Reyes berated the guy. Bellamy paced outside of the curtain screen, waiting to drag the doctor to her quarters as soon as she stepped away from the patient.

He was furious with her for doing something behind his back and, furthermore, not mentioning anything about it. She'd gotten a new identity for Octavia. It was one of the most illegal things he could think of, aside from murdering someone. 

Clarke emerged from the curtain, and Bellamy pounced. 

"We need to talk. Right now," he said. 

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her office. They needed privacy, but Bellamy didn't want his sister to hear anything they had to say. Clarke was confused, but she didn't object to being dragged. 

"Your mother came to see me," Bellamy said as soon as he closed the door to her office. 

"And?" Clarke asked. 

"Aside from letting me know that she doesn't like me, she told me that you asked her for a favor." 

Clarke didn't react to being discovered like other people would. She stuck to her position. 

"I didn't want to say anything until I had everything in place."

“This is big, Clarke.” 

She took a key from her pocket and leaned down to unlock one of the bottom drawers in her desk. Clarke took a file from the drawer and set it down in front of Bellamy. 

“Avery Legare and her parents and their neighbors died fifteen years ago when one of the residential hallways explosively decompressed,” Clarke said, opening the file to show Bellamy information about the dead girl. “She’s the right age and they look similar. Octavia could pass for her.” 

“This is sick, Clarke.” 

“She’s not using it anymore,” Clarke said. “Think of your sister. Do you want her to live in my spare room for the rest of her life? Things are fucked up, but that’s no way to live.” 

This might be dangerous for all of them. Chancellor Griffin might be able to hide her own involvement, but the rest of them were not above the law. He wanted to ask her who she was doing this for. Was Clarke doing this for Octavia or for him? 

“When do we tell her?” he asked. 

“Now, if you want, but we’ll have to plan for her to leave. You can’t just have a new person appear. She’ll need a job assignment, somewhere to live,” Clarke said. Bellamy could already see that her mind was reeling at the tasks that stood between her and accomplishing her plan. 

“I’m telling her now,” Bellamy said. He left Clarke and her file on the dead girl in her office. The people in the clinic stared at him as he stalked out of the doctor’s office and into her quarters. Even he couldn’t ignore them. 

Clarke caught up with him just inside of her quarters. She had the file on the dead girl clasped to her chest. “I want to be with you.”

He found his sister in her room, surrounded by three open books. She was still adjusting to having access to more than one at a time. Octavia would often skip between books, reading a few passages from one, then moving on to another. 

“Bell,” Octavia said, looking up from the book she was on. 

“We’ve got good news,” Clarke said. 

“What?” Octavia asked. 

Clarke placed the folder down on the bed beside Octavia.

“I got you an identity.” 

“What?” Octavia asked. She glanced at the documents, as if she didn’t believe them. Bellamy hardly believed it himself. He stood back to let Clarke explain it. It was her scheme. 

“I pulled a few strings,” Clarke said. 

“She’s dead?” Octavia asked. 

“And everyone who ever knew her is dead, too. You’ll be able get out of this room and live.” 

Octavia looked through the folder, reading all of the details. When she was done, she closed the folder and handed it to Clarke. 

“I need to think,” she said. 

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked. 

He stepped forward, taking Clarke by the arm. She didn’t move at first, until he pulled a little harder.

“Give her time,” he said quietly. Bellamy guided the doctor out of the room and shut the door behind them, leaving Octavia alone with the books again. 

“Why isn’t she excited?” Clarke asked. 

“She's never lived a normal life,” Bellamy said. “We used to hide her under the floor when our place got inspected. Octavia will come around, but it will take time.” 

Clarke sighed. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. As dramatic as it had been, he felt the tension ebbing as he held her. After a few slow breaths, the doctor slipped her arms around his waist. 

“Thank you,” Bellamy said. 

“For what?” 

“For asking your mom. For this.” 

She turned her head, resting her head over his heart and bringing her body closer to his. 

“Don’t thank me until it’s done,” Clarke said. “I don’t even know if Octavia will accept.” 

“She will--just let her think about it,” he said. 

After a week, Octavia asked Clarke for the file again. When the appointed day came, Bellamy smuggled Octavia out of Clarke’s quarters to just outside of the station. Avery Legare was listed as an incoming apprentice mechanic assigned to Raven Reyes. 

All three of them held their breath, but no one seemed to think there was anything odd about Octavia. Any odd behaviors or gaps in knowledge, the mechanics chalked up to her being from another station. Raven was one of Clarke’s friends. She fabricated prosthetics for Clarke to fit on mechanics and others who’d lost limbs on the station. With some supervision and protection from Raven, Octavia quickly settled into life outside. Sometimes, she still went back to Clarke’s quarters to sit in the room with the books and read. With time, she visited the room to sit alone less and less. 

As the months passed, Bellamy felt like a great burden had been lifted from him. He no longer had to worry about concealing his sister or feeding her or entertaining her. She was her own person, independent of him. For as long as he could remember, she had been his responsibility. 

Bellamy wasn’t quite sure what to do with the freedom. He found himself still running errands for the doctor. There was no reason for him to do so any longer, except for an excuse to see the doctor. They had never talked about their relationship. He had never asked her what exactly it was that she wanted. Bellamy had excused it for so long because of the situation. He had needed her for his sister’s sake. Now he still needed her, but it was a less tangible need. A day didn’t seem complete if he didn’t see her. He rested best when he slept next to her in her bed. 

He wasn’t her boyfriend, but he wanted to be. He wanted to understand the relationship between them. Bellamy was frightened of finding out that she didn’t feel the same way about him. 

“How’re things between you and the doctor?” Octavia asked him one day when he stopped by the shop where she worked with Raven to pick up some things for Clarke. 

“Fine.” It wasn’t a subject he particularly cared to explore with his sister. She was just as nosy now as she had been when he’d been her only source of information about the outside world. 

“Are you two officially dating?” Octavia asked. 

“It’s complicated,” he said. 

“So you don’t know.” 

Though it hurt to hear it put that way, it was the truth of the matter.

“I told you--it’s complicated.” Bellamy picked up the box, desperate to be away from his sister and her questions. 

“Just ask her, Bell,” Octavia said. “Either way, you’ll be happier.” 

Bellamy wasn’t so sure of this. It would be a blow if Clarke didn’t feel the same way as him. He wasn’t quite sure what the feeling was, but it was something more than friends. They had become close so quickly. 

He resolved on the walk to deliver the boxes, that he would ask her. It was better to do it now, he reasoned, before he got any more involved. He would do it quickly. 

Bellamy found the doctor in her quarters, dressed for bed, but still up and reading a medical text. He put the boxes from the mechanics by the door and went to join the doctor on the couch. Clarke glanced up from her book, but didn’t move. He came and went freely from her quarters. It had become a habit when Octavia lived there. Bellamy hadn’t broken it once Octavia moved out on her own, and Clarke had never objected to it. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” Bellamy said. 

“What is it?” Clarke asked. 

“Could you put you book away? This is important.” 

Clarke picked up a bookmark and put it in the book. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy said. He couldn’t manage to complete his thought. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. 

“What is it?” 

“I’ve been thinking about something. You mean a lot to me, Clarke.” 

“You mean a lot to me, too, Bellamy. I don’t know how we would have gotten through everything without you.” 

Bellamy looked at her. 

“I’m in love with you, Clarke.” 

“Oh,” she said. It was different, seeing Clarke obviously surprised by something. She took things in stride, but he’d managed to surprise her. He was pathetic, he told himself. Clarke obviously didn’t feel the same way about him, and now he just looked stupid. She would probably laugh at him behind his back and tell everyone he’d confessed how much he loved her. 

Bellamy stood and stalked out of her quarters. He had already humiliated himself. There was no need to bask in it. 

“Wait,” Clarke called. He was able to make it out of the clinic before Clarke could catch up with him. When she did catch him, she grabbed his arm. 

“Don’t run away,” Clarke said. “We need to talk about this.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Yes, there is,” Clarke said. 

“Then say what you need and leave me alone.” 

“I’m not in love with you, but I think I could be,” Clarke said. “We work well together. Now, can we please go back to the clinic and talk about this?”

Bellamy didn’t want to go back to the clinic. If she wasn’t in love with him, he’d made a complete fool of himself. He cursed himself for getting caught up in her. Why would he ever think that Dr. Clarke Griffin could fall for Bellamy Blake, the janitor? 

“There’s not much to talk about if you’re not in love with me.” 

Her hands were tight on his arm. If he wanted, he could pull away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

“You’re wrong. Give me a chance, Bellamy,” Clarke said. There was desperation and hurt in her voice. He wanted to comfort her, but he told himself that it was the very last thing he should have done in the situation.

“What do you want from me?” he asked. 

She took a deep breath.


End file.
